Do You Take This Cop?

“How’s Austin doing?” he asked, stopping her in her tracks. “He enjoying his summer?”

She took her time turning back to him. Something made it impossible for her to be rude enough to walk away when he was talking to her.

“Austin’s fine,” she said.

He leaned against the washing machine. “He’s what? Ten?”

“Nine,” she said, looking toward the door.

Yeah, he shouldn’t enjoy this so much. But then again, he was a cop, not a saint. “I remember that age. Summer couldn’t come soon enough, didn’t last long enough and there was always too much to do.”

“He’s keeping busy.”

“He making friends? Adjusting to the new town?”

“He’s…shy. He wasn’t in school long enough to buddy up with any of the kids, but I’m sure that’ll change once it starts again.”

“If you want, I could introduce him to a few of my nephews. I have one his age and—”

“That’s not necessary.”

“It’s no big deal. And Trevor’s a great kid.”

“I’m sure he is but—”

“Mom!”

Faith’s face went white. She whirled around as Austin came rushing into the room, his hair matted down with sweat, his face red.

“What happened?” Kneeling, she gripped his shoulder with her free hand. “What’s wrong?”

The panic in her voice made Nick step forward, his heart picking up speed.

“The new X-Men comic is on sale,” Austin panted, bending at the waist. “Can I get it? Please? It’s only four dollars.”

Faith sagged in relief. “The way you came barreling in here, yelling like that,” she said, running an unsteady hand over her son’s hair, “I thought something had happened to you.”

“Sorry. I have to hurry back because there’s only one copy left. Mr. Silvis said he’d hold on to it for me as long as I came back before lunchtime.”

Faith rubbed her temples. “Mr. Silvis is just going to have to wait a few minutes. I hope you didn’t run through the salon—”

“No, ma’am,” Austin said, with such a guilty look Nick knew for damn sure Austin had barreled through the place as though his ass were on fire.

“And,” Faith continued, “I can’t help but wonder if you left your manners back at Mr. Silvis’s store, since you haven’t even said hello to Mr. Coletti.”

“But, Mom, I have to—”

Faith gave him The Look. A shiver crept up Nick’s spine even though The Look hadn’t even been aimed at him. But it was a powerful tool, one perfected by mothers throughout the centuries to keep their kids in line. Hell, his mother had given him The Look last week. You couldn’t outgrow it.

“Hi, Mr. Coletti,” Austin said quickly. Nick nodded in greeting and Austin whipped around to face his mother again. “So? Can I get it? Please?”

“We’ll see.”

Austin’s expression darkened. “That means no.”

“It doesn’t mean no. It means I’ll think about it.”

“Why can’t you tell me now? Please, Mom. Please, I really want this one. And I promise, I won’t ask for anything the rest of the week. Or even the rest of the summer. Or you could take it out of my birthday present or…or I could pay you back. Maybe I could mow Mrs. Sugden’s yard again or walk her dog or—”

“Austin,” Faith snapped, glancing at Nick before leading Austin over to the corner.

Nick didn’t even bother pretending he wasn’t observing their every move. Watching her collect herself was so fascinating.

“I’m sorry, honey,” she said, “but with the water heater breaking, a comic book’s not in the budget this week.”

The poor kid sort of…deflated. As crushed as if someone had sold his prized baseball card collection at a garage sale for a quarter of its value.

Like Nick’s sister Kathleen had done during his first year at college.

“Yes, ma’am,” Austin murmured, blinking fiercely.

Nick clenched his hands. Not his concern, he assured himself as he shut off the water to the washing machine. Or his business. Faith had been distant around him since they’d met. No sense making waves with his sister’s employee by sticking his nose where it didn’t belong.

Austin sniffed and Nick tipped his head back and exhaled.

He was going to have to help the kid out, after all.

CHAPTER TWO

FAITH HAD BEEN GEARING UP for Austin to give her a hefty dose of snark about not being able to get the comic book, and instead, her baby had taken the news in stride.

“I’m sorry, honey,” she said, deliberately ignoring the dark, silent man in the room. She brushed Austin’s hair off his forehead, but let her hand drop when he jerked away. “Maybe you can get the next issue.”

Austin shrugged. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Damn,” Nick muttered.

She and Austin both turned and saw him staring at his toolbox, his hands on his hips.

“Sorry,” he said when he caught them watching. “I just realized I don’t have any quarter inch pan head screws and…” He scratched his ear. “Hey, Austin, maybe you could do me a favor?”

“That depends on what it is,” Faith said.

“I need those screws but I’m already behind fixing this…” He jerked a thumb at the washing machine. “Could you run down to the hardware store and pick them up for me? If it’s all right with your mom.”

Austin looked at her. The back of her neck prickled. “But isn’t the hardware store at the end of Main Street?” she asked.

“Yeah. At the corner of Kennedy and Main.”

Six blocks away. Even if Austin ran there and back, he’d be gone at least twenty minutes. More than likely, with the way he ambled along, he’d be gone over half an hour. Anything could happen to him in that time.

In the act of pulling his wallet out of his back pocket, Nick paused. “If you don’t want him crossing the street…”

“I can cross by myself,” Austin said with all the offended pride someone under double digits could muster. “Can I, Mom? It’s not like I have anything else to do, anyway.”

She was stuck. Stuck between not wanting her son to do something as innocuous as walking down the street, and the cop looking at her as if she was a few rods short of a perm. “I…I suppose it’s okay.”

“I appreciate it.” Nick handed Austin a ten dollar bill. “A hundred of them should be less than five dollars, so why don’t you keep the other five?”

Faith stiffened and edged around so that she stood between him and Austin. “That’s not nec—”

“I insist.” Nick’s eyes on hers were steady, his expression innocent. “He’s doing me a favor and he should be compensated for it.”

Austin tugged on her arm. “Can I, Mom? Please?”

Why did he have to look so excited? So…hopeful?

Worse, why did she have to feel so guilty? She got no enjoyment out of denying her child something as small as a comic book, especially after she’d grown up going without so many things.

“Did you eat your breakfast?” she asked.

Austin nodded vigorously. “I even ate a banana.”

She forced a smile, surprised her face didn’t crack. “Well, then, I guess it’s okay.”

“Really?” Austin asked breathlessly. “So, can I get the comic book?”

“It’s your money. You can buy it if you want to.”

“When you get to the store,” Nick said, “tell Marsha I sent you. She’ll have my order ready.”

“Okay.” Austin shoved the money into his pocket but didn’t miss the way Faith raised an eyebrow at him. “I mean, yes, sir.”

“I’ll call her and let her know to expect you.” He took his phone out and walked over to the washing machine as he dialed.

“Be careful crossing the street,” Faith told Austin.

He squirmed in embarrassment. “Mo-om.”

“Yes, I’m lame and overprotective and I’ve said all of this before. Humor me. Don’t stop in any other stores besides the hardware store and bookstore and—”

“Don’t talk to strangers. Don’t get into the car with a stranger.” He lowered his voice. “I’m not a baby.”

“Maybe not, but you’re still my baby.” She supposed it was natural for a boy his age to be disgusted by someone calling him a baby. But that didn’t mean she had to like his expression. “I just want you to be careful.”

“I will be.”

“I’ll expect you back within thirty minutes,” Faith said. “Got it?”

“Got it.” He flicked a glance over his shoulder and, seeing Nick’s back was turned, puckered his lips and accepted a quick peck from her.

“Don’t run through the—”

Austin raced off. She prayed he wouldn’t crash into anything in the salon. Such as a customer.

She dug through her purse and, as soon as Nick hung up his phone, stalked over to him. “Here.”

Frowning at the five-dollar bill she held out, he stuck his phone in his front pocket. “What’s this?”

“It’s the money you paid my son to run an errand you didn’t even need done.”

His eyes were hooded, his expression blank. And to think at one time she used to be an expert on reading men. Either she’d lost her touch or he excelled at the whole stoic thing.

Probably the latter. After all, weren’t all cops emotionless robots? The ones she’d dealt with were.

“I don’t want your money, Faith.”

Yeah? Well, she didn’t want to give it to him, but more than that, she didn’t want him to worm his way into her son’s life with money. “Take it. Please,” she insisted.

He held it as if it were a live rattlesnake before tossing it on top of the washing machine. “I’m not sure what the problem is.”

“You stuck your nose into my personal business,” she said before she could censor herself. “I’d prefer you didn’t involve yourself in something that’s between me and my son.”

“I wasn’t involving myself in anything,” he said casually, as if he hadn’t stepped over a line. “I needed some screws, he needed some cash.”

She clasped her hands behind her back. “You’re changing the hoses.” Keeping her tone unfailingly polite just about killed her. “All you have to do is shut off the water, disconnect the hoses and connect the new ones.”

“You moonlight as a plumber?”

She gritted her teeth. “It’s not rocket science. Austin could do it. But he wouldn’t need any pan head screws, that’s for sure.”

Nick unhooked one hose from the wall. “I need the screws for something I’m doing later.”

“No. You don’t. You overheard me tell Austin he couldn’t have something he wanted, and you thought you’d swoop in and save the day like you do with everyone else.”

He shot her an irritated glance. “You have no idea what I do with everyone else.” He let the end of the cold water hose fall on the tile floor. Water dripped out and made a small puddle. “We’ve seen each other at least once a week for the past few months and this is the longest conversation we’ve ever had.”

True. And she couldn’t wait for it to end.

“Every time I so much as say hello, you act wicked nervous,” he continued. “If I did something to—”

“You didn’t.”

He grinned. “Good. Because seeing as how we’re probably going to run into each other quite often—and considering that you’re working for my sister—why don’t we try to at least be friends?”

She narrowed her eyes. Did he really think he could charm her into believing he was the type of guy who did nice things for people out of the goodness of his heart? She didn’t care if he was considered around town to be a prince among men. She didn’t trust him.

And even if she did, they couldn’t be friends. She didn’t have any friends.

So what if she got lonely? Or that there were times when she wondered if she could do it all alone. Raise Austin. Keep him safe. Keep their secret. But the decision she’d made when she’d left New York meant she didn’t have a choice now.

“We can’t be friends,” she blurted.

For some reason, that only seemed to amuse him. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t like you.”

NICK’S SMILE DISAPPEARED. Didn’t like him? What the hell? Everyone liked him. Just ask around.

“Maybe if you weren’t in such a hurry to get away from me,” he claimed irritably, “you’d learn to like me.”

“I don’t like you getting your hero worship fix from my son.”

“Hero worship?” He clenched the wrench he still held, and gave it a backhanded toss into his toolbox. Faith jumped when it hit the handle with a loud clang. “Funny how we’ve barely spoken, and yet you have no trouble coming up with a shitty opinion of me.”

“You had no right to involve yourself in my personal life—”

“I wasn’t trying to stick my nose into your business.” He hated losing control, even for a moment. “Austin seemed upset…”

“Sad to say, life is full of disappointments. And while I don’t relish the idea, Austin is going to have to deal with not always having things go his way.” She dumped the rest of her coffee into the utility sink and rinsed out the cup, her movements jerky.

“I was trying to help.”

“I didn’t want or need your help. You don’t need to befriend the struggling single mother. I’m not one of your sisters.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re at their beck and call.”

He scowled down at her. “Lady, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really? Let’s see…” She gestured toward the washing machine. “You’re here, on what I’m assuming is your day off…?”

She paused and looked at him expectantly. What else could he do? He nodded once and she continued. “And what are you doing on this gorgeous morning? You’re changing water hoses.”

“They needed to be replaced and—”

“Yes, they did, but Britney could’ve done it.”

“Britney can’t tell a wrench from a screwdriver.”

“If you’d teach her how to take care of things herself, she wouldn’t have to have someone ride to her rescue all the time.” Though Nick had at least five inches on Faith, she somehow managed to look down her nose at him. “I didn’t want or need your help with Austin. What I want is for you to keep your nose out of my business.”

“So you’d rather have your pride than accept a helping hand every once in a while?”

She flushed, but he couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or anger. “I don’t need your charity.”

“You think I don’t understand what it’s like for Austin, sitting here while you work? How bored he is?” Nick clamped his lips shut. The last thing he wanted was to open up to her about how he knew exactly how the kid felt. Not when she obviously thought so little of him.

His mother might not have dragged him to work with her, but she had left him at home in charge of his sisters. There were plenty of times he’d had to put his needs second.

But he hadn’t minded having to quit baseball so he could be home to watch Britney after school, or that he didn’t get a video-game system when he was fourteen because they’d needed new snow tires for the car. He had a responsibility to his mother and sisters—the same responsibility Faith Lewis felt for her son. Family did for each other. So why did she think his favors for his sisters were anything different?

“I thought Austin would like something to read to pass the time,” he continued. “But if I was out of line, I apologize.”

Then, because he didn’t care one way or the other if she accepted his apology, he went back to the washer. Kneeling, he unscrewed the hoses from the back of the machine. Water dribbled onto his hands and he wiped them on his jeans. After a moment, he heard the sound of her footsteps as she walked away. Too bad she’d left her soft floral scent behind.

How the hell had she twisted his simple gesture into something to be pissed about? He pinched the bridge of his nose. Even after being surrounded by females his entire life, he still found them a mystery.

“Ms. Garey wants you to come out when you’re done,” Britney said as she entered the room. “Her niece is visiting next week and she was wondering if you’ll take her out.”

“I’m busy.”

“I didn’t even tell you what days she’ll be here,” Britney said. “Oh, and Ms. Garey wanted me to remind you of how she let you retake some English final your senior year so you could graduate with the rest of your class instead of suffering the humiliation of summer school.”

He grabbed the new hoses, viciously tightening the connection for the cold water one. “Blackmail is illegal.”

“Hey, you’re the cop. You tell her.”

Nick tilted his head to the side. Why him? He was a decent guy. What had he done to deserve this? “Is this the same niece she set me up with a few years back? The vegan?” He connected the hot water hose. The wrench slipped and he whacked his knuckle. Pressing his lips together against the pain, he shook his hand. “Because I’ll tell you right now, I’m not eating one bite of her tofu casserole or whatever it was she cooked up for me the last time.”

“Take her to the Wave Runner. She can get the all-you-can-eat salad bar.”

“And spend the night listening to her lecture me about eating lobster? No thanks.” He stood and dropped the dripping hoses into the utility sink. He grimaced when he finally saw his sister. “What the hell are you not quite wearing?”

“Now, Nicky, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times, I’m a grown woman and I can dress however I want.”

The headache that had started when Faith ripped into him intensified. “True. But I’m pretty sure I can write you up for indecent exposure. Aren’t you supposed to wear that vest over something? Like a shirt?”

She adjusted the hem of her top. “For your information, Michael likes the way I dress.”

And the last thing he needed to hear was how his baby sister’s latest unemployed, stringy-haired, dumber-than-Nick’s-firearm boyfriend liked her to show lots of skin. “I’ll sleep better tonight knowing that. Toss me a towel, will you?”

Britney handed him one from the dryer, then leaned against the washing machine while he sopped up the water on the floor and put his tools away. “If you had a steady girlfriend, you wouldn’t have to go out with the mean old vegan.”

He locked his toolbox and stood. “No.”

“Why not? Faith is sooo nice and she’s smart and funny and—”

“And she’s off her rocker. She’s also mighty ticked off at me, so even if I was interested—which I’m not—I don’t think you’d be able to convince her we’re destined to be together.”

“What do you mean, she’s ticked? What did you do?” Britney asked suspiciously.

He folded the towel and laid it on top of the washing machine. “What makes you think I did anything?”

“Now, don’t get all sensitive.” Britney poured a cup of coffee, added creamer and handed it to him before getting a bottled water out of the fridge. “Come on. Spill.”

He quickly filled her in.

“That doesn’t sound like Faith,” she said thoughtfully. “Although she is very protective of Austin. Maybe she was just worried about him going that far on his own?”

“Maybe,” Nick conceded. But he had a feeling whatever had set Faith off was more than that. His cell phone rang. “Coletti,” he said after opening it.

“Nicky,” his sister Andrea said, “please tell me you’re not busy.”

He turned his back on the new hoses. “I’m not busy. What’s up?”

“Marie called. Isaac’s sick. Marie thinks it’s chicken pox.” Their sister Marie ran the day care center Andrea’s two kids, five-year-old Isaac and two-year-old Dana, attended. “He needs to be picked up, but I can’t get away from work until two-thirty and Tuesdays Steve is at his Brunswick office and—”

“And you need me to go get Isaac.”

“If you don’t have any other plans,” she said in a rush. “I’d really appreciate it.”

So much for meeting a few buddies for an afternoon golf game. “No problem.” He wedged the phone between his shoulder and ear and shoved the washing machine back in place. “Tell Marie I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Thanks, Nicky.”

“Isaac’s sick,” he told Britney after he hung up. “Marie thinks it’s the start of chicken pox.”

“I told Andrea she’d regret not getting those kids vaccinated.”

“Her choice.” He picked up his toolbox.

“Wait.” Britney grabbed his free wrist. “You can’t go until you’ve made up with Faith.”

“Hey, even though I didn’t do anything wrong, I already apologized.” He’d figured, correctly, it would be the easiest way to get her to lay off.

“Great. Now you two can put this behind you—”

“Are your braids too tight?” The last thing he needed was some high-strung, antagonistic woman in his life.

“Fine.” Britney flipped one of those braids over her shoulder. “But you’re making a mistake by giving up. You and Faith would be great together. Don’t forget, I inherited Great-grandma’s sight.”

“The only thing you inherited was a tendency to overdramatize situations.”

He took it back. She must’ve also inherited their Nonna’s ability to skewer a man with one dark look. “I was going to make you chicken parmigiana for fixing the washing machine,” Brit said with an indignant sniff, “but just for that, all you’re getting is a thank-you card.” She then whirled around on the heel of one of her cowboy boots and sashayed out of the room.

Nick shut his eyes. God, please save me from the women in my life.

Amen.

He hoped Britney listened this time. She’d been after him to ask Faith out ever since she’d first hired her. What Brit wasn’t aware of was that he’d given in and had invited Faith out to dinner a few months ago. An invitation she’d quickly and politely declined.

He didn’t need to be told no twice.

CHAPTER THREE

TEN MINUTES AFTER FAITH got home from work that evening, the phone rang. She remained where she was, staring into the refrigerator, hoping she might find inspiration for dinner. “Austin, can you get that, please?”

The second ring ended abruptly. “It’s for you,” Austin called from the living room.

Shutting the refrigerator, she grabbed a washed apple out of the bowl on the table and headed into the other room. From his prone position on the sofa, Austin held the phone out, his nose buried in that blasted comic book.

For about the hundredth time that day, she felt guilty over not letting Austin get the comic in the first place. She was so very tired of feeling guilty all the time. But she doubted she’d get any reprieve, seeing as how her list of sins was so damn long.

Like forcing Austin to leave his prized comic book collection behind two towns ago. Which was what happened when you took off in the middle of the night as if the devil himself were after you.

Unfortunately, that’s exactly who they were running from. And he would never stop searching for them.

She bit into her apple, then took the phone, holding the mouthpiece against her stomach as she chewed and swallowed. She swatted the tops of Austin’s sneakers with the back of her hand. “Get those dirty shoes off my couch.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, not looking up from the comic as he toed his shoes off onto the floor.

Faith pursed her lips and gave him her best Mom stare until he lifted his head. “What?” he asked.

“Put your shoes away,” she said around another bite.

“But I just got to the good part.”

She nodded toward his shoes. “Go.”

He groaned and rolled his eyes.

She lifted the phone to her ear as someone knocked on the door.

“I’ll get it,” Austin said, rushing past her.

“Check to see who it is first,” she reminded him, then said into the phone, “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me,” Britney said. “Now, promise you won’t get mad…”

Faith watched Austin move aside the curtain covering the door’s window. “That is so not a good lead-in.”

Whoever knocked must not be a stranger, because Austin undid the dead bolt and opened the door.

“You’re right,” Britney admitted, “and you can be mad, but remember, I’m doing this because I want to help you.”

“I don’t suppose that help involves an idea of what to cook for dinner using half a pound of ground beef, two carrots and some stale saltines?”

“Uh…no. Sorry. But this is better,” Britney promised. “I got you a surprise.”

“I hate surprises.” Faith bit into the apple again as Austin stepped aside, giving her a clear view of her doorstep. She inhaled sharply and coughed to dislodge a piece of apple from her windpipe. “Never mind,” she choked out. “It’s here.”